personal

I’m a greedy person.

When some adults see me, they have curiously blurted out that I am a greedy person. It’s quite ambiguous when translated from the Korean language. While to be greedy is largely a negative thing, in Korea, it could also translate to ‘you’re too ambitious,’ ‘you’re full of desire,’ and the general gist of me stepping out of my bounds and wanting too much for myself. Which I never thought to be a negative thing, until the little moments when they put my life into perspective. Here are these adults, who have grown up and lived in Korea probably for their entire lives. Their societal molding must be radically different from mine, where I have always been encouraged to aspire to be more, to be more, and essentially to have more. I have never been afraid of pushing myself harder and challenging myself more if that meant that I was doing something that I enjoyed doing, even if it did not clearly correlate directly to a better, brighter future with a stable corporate job. I constantly envisioned myself to be above and beyond the little town in Zimbabwe, where I could live the fast life. It was, and still is a romanticized version of the life I want to live in my early 20’s. I nurtured the desire to be a nomad and to keep moving forward and upwards, even if it meant leaving behind everything I have known. Perhaps people see it in me, these adults, when they compare their own children to me or juxtapose their own youth to the flicker in my eyes. And they open their tired mouths and tell me—you’re too greedy.
The first time I heard this was from a middle aged woman, a mother of two children in a tour group in New Zealand. We had travelled for about two weeks together, admiring the grandiose rolling hills and never ending fjords. On the hard sofas at the airport waiting lounge before we were to never see each other ever again (another romantic feeling), she indulged in some life coaching. She asked me what I wanted to do—and I said everything. I want to be someone who helps the world. A creative and an entrepreneur. I was thinking of pursuing a double major in international studies and culture design management—and yes, I was already well underway with my minor in comparative literature and culture. She grimaced.
This moment stayed with me for the rest of my solo travels, and I was largely incredulous at how she had cut down my ambitions and my dreams. She said with all seriousness, you should focus on one thing, or you’ll lose everything. This lady had wanted to be many things too before she settled down and became a dentist out of practicality. There was nothing more horrifying than when she wished the same fate upon me.
The second time that really triggered this whole spiel was the noodle shop I took my friends to last night. He kindly gave us an extra dumpling for the three of us, and I jokingly said, don’t worry! I’ll eat it! Apparently that made some large impact on him because as I was checking out, he told me that I’m a greedy person. I said, ‘thanks’ and threw him off, because at this point I have chosen to take it as a positive thing. There was nothing that he could decipher from our short time together, where he made me a bowl of noodles and I ate them in return that could have impacted me long term. He didn’t understand my humor as I was trying to make him feel more comfortable when serving us. Instead, he took it as an opportunity to judge me and openly criticize me. Most of all, it was my very ‘greed’ that brought all my friends to eat at his hole-in-the-wall shop, so perhaps he hasn’t fully grasped how capitalism works yet. It was a good meal, and I wouldn’t mind going again.
So here I say-
You tell me I’m greedy.
But it was not meekness and settling that prompted my family to move their whole lives and start afresh in Zimbabwe. It was not acceptance that raised our family from a single shop selling my mother’s handmade shirts to the business that supports hundreds of workers today. Parts of my family are alive because they were not aborted when they were told that they would never be able to live normally. It was not when I sat and accepted my fate when I was able to run for my life with fire lapping behind my calves and escape one of the most terrifying gang break-ins.
I am a fighter, and this is what fighters do. We want things. We make things happen, or we die trying.
Advertisements
Standard
Art and Culture, Blogging, college, exploring, Uncategorized

Where to draw the line between Hobby and Career

I’m in a rut. I’m at that stage in life where all the Ted Talks and inspirational speakers on Youtube are adamantly trying to convince me that I’m at the most exciting and wonderful period of my life, where anything is possible if I just believe. Unfortunately, I am having a really hard time believing them, let alone myself.

Last night, I finally met up with a childhood friend after an entire year has passed us by. In the small bossam stall in the crowded streets of Hongdae, the air saturated with noise, smoke, and heat, we spilled the messy happenings of our lives. During this time, she decided that she wanted to drop out of college, plastered her body with Harry Potter tattoos (which I am quite envious of) and learnt how to be a bartender. I, on the other hand, went on an exchange semester in Australia, and learnt more about myself than ever before in my life. All that travelling and relying on myself made me come to a conclusion that I definitely don’t want to be living a life in my major, because just thinking about my future in the field made me lose all motivation for living. I face entering my final year of college with so many decisions and plans of action that are eluding me every step of the way. Meanwhile, my boyfriend finally got his break after years of trying, and got the internship of his dreams, in one of the best motor companies. He says his experience has disillusioned him about the corporate life, seeing his coworkers’ faces sag in the myriad of cubicles surrounding him. In all these various facets of life, I believe we are faced with the same amount of uncertainty and angst, each a little envious and in awe with the life of the other. Increasingly, people are becoming more realistic and vulnerable on social media, in between the festival and foodie pics, they are professing deep anxiety and confusion over the futures.

Confession: I am contemplating a life in art. I know that nothing fascinates me more and gives me more joy than delving into the creative–reading, writing, watching, dancing, and feeling. Sadly, this big decision comes with a price; that while it has no price it furthermore has no monetary value. My dreams of becoming a curator/art historian/writer and editor all require that I pursue a Ph.D without the guarantee of any financial stability. It is a dream that makes loved ones frown and be concerned about the future, my future.  It concerns me because I don’t know if the money, time and effort that I am going to be pouring into this future will ultimately lead to my demise, especially when I could have done something else. But deep down, my heart tells me that anything else is not my authentic self, anything else would be any other life but mine.

I am so incredibly blessed that I can even consider this kind of alternative future, and that my parents are completely supportive. I imagine that it is incredibly rare to have parents that actually push you towards such an uncertain future, but this is because they hold me with high esteem. Mother believes that I have a sixth sense when it comes to art, and it is ridiculously hard not to take it to heart. Their level of pride and confidence when it comes to my capabilities is astounding, and I wonder if my worries are an unnecessary complexity where I am talking myself out of something that could potentially be, and ironically not by others.

Earlier this month, as I was projecting the boundless opportunities offered by summer break, I was genuinely excited to have a summer where I could be unapologetically myself and live a creative life. I feel that no matter how much you work, and no matter what kind of life you project unto others, it is just difficult to convince yourself that you are enough, and that you have done something of worth. This month, I dived into a mini exhibition held for my mom, which proved to be tough work but a lot of fun and insight. It allowed me to see the business aspect of the art world, as we were unexpectedly invited to see the behind the scenes of a modern gallery. The entrepreneur is also the one that convinced me that there is an opportunity in the arts, and surprisingly confirmed all my thoughts that I dismissed as just dreams. Since then, I’ve been reading and researching things about living this creative academia. It is both liberating and disheartening at the same time, but I guess these are the doubts that everyone is feeling at this point in our lives. Most of all, I don’t want to waste the opportunities I have, or riddle myself with doubts. I don’t want to be my own biggest enemy. Then again, I don’t want to be my own downfall either. Does anyone else have these doubts? I’ve been asking so many questions on online platforms and on quora, but in the end other people cannot make my decisions for me. Either way, life will go vehemently on without me. I just need to buckle down and decide.

Standard
college, personal, Uncategorized

meek.

I found myself lying, face drooping into the slopes of my pillow, weighed down by all the things I should probably be doing and the things I wish I was doing. My uneven posture and tense legs strain from clenching and releasing early this morning from when I was taking my driver’s for the second time. Later, I struggled to cover the rose of my frost-bitten cheeks with multiple layers of foundation. It still shone through, a harsh and unapologetic bloom.

I tend to find myself fleeting from one place to the next, eagerly checking off the menial things off my diary for comfort. Put money into the bank. Check the dates for performance. Get some groceries–especially some salad. I should really get into that. I then crash into bed when they are done, feeling strangely unaccomplished and disconnected to my self.

I picked off the pieces of my body, the mangled individuals cast here and there over the bed. Recollected myself, and gathered together a self that can writes. I try to make meaning of the empty space. No matter how many times I try to keep my desk clear of the clutter, my pens and books with stickers and orange peels litter the top, and stay there until someone else enters.

I see a message pop up from my friend. We find solace in each other. There are friends you meet in blurs to pass messy nights with, and others with whom you reach out for in the darkness, meandering the unknown hills and edging around the crevices. I talk again about my feelings. She returns the same. I feel that there are many of us out there tonight–we are not lost, but just waiting for the winter to pass us over.

 

Standard
exploring, personal, Uncategorized

Why I am “Fine” – something personal

I went to a talk about mental health awareness today, and how it is stigmatised and 40% of Australians think that depressed people are dangerous, when in fact, they are the most targeted. I remember back in high school when I had some of the most tumultuous years of my life, and the crippling anxiety I had after getting gang robbed the second time and having my family fall apart and stitched back together. I would burst into hysteric tears for no good reason. The only reason I went home was because of my puppy and the weird guilt that convinced me I needed to be there to calm and mediate everything. I spent so many days at my sisters because the atmosphere choked me. I always looked to school for refuge, and thinking back, it’s the only reason why it never really developed into medication and doesn’t affect me so much now. School always had gossip and rumors and this and that to keep my mind off of things. I was preparing for college and for exams and having crushes and having fun with my friends… it gave me things to focus on. Even now, I sometimes find myself crying over something trivial, and it used to make me so angry for being weak and emotional. I’m over that now. I may not understand it, but it’s okay. I don’t judge or reprimand myself for expressing something and giving a sign that I feel something about the situation. I want to thank my boyfriend for this too, for always understanding and telling me to continue nurturing myself.

This turned out to be a longer post than intended. I just guess I want to say that I’m really grateful how everything turned out, and to everyone that has stood by me along the way. I took counselling after the robbery, and I am never ashamed to say it. I openly encourage all my friends to seek help if they need it. It was one of the best choices I made at the time, and just being able to speak about it to someone who would not worry as much as my friends or family would was everything. I’m really grateful for all the support my counsellor gave to me (shoutout to Miss Wilhite, I’ll never forget you) and to everyone who accepted me for me and were patient with me during my healing. Mental illness is an illness like all others, should be openly discussed and have support like any other battle.

Standard
college, personal, Uncategorized

It’s Ridiculous

…That it’s taken this long for me to post anything on here. Ri-dic-ulous. I am proportionally ashamed of myself because I’ve been busy with moving to a new city and applying for exchange and falling in love and all that. When I start reflecting on my 2015, I can identify all the new joys and richesse that has stripped me of my routine and the hobbies that I identify with myself. Another year has passed, and voila, I somehow find myself here in 2016. Time is unwarranted. It keeps going whether you take hold of it or not.

Currently, I am back home in Harare, Zimbabwe after spending almost a year and a half alone in South Korea. It’s great to be back. A couple of nights ago I met with some of my highschool classmates and it felt good to be able to talk about the powercuts and the ridiculous requirement of you having to go fetch the firefighters AND provide them with some water in case of fire. These are the little ideosyncrases that I can only fully enjoy with these special peoples, because explaining to any others will only result in gasps of shock or sympathetic ‘aws.’ It’s a sad state, but there is so much more to life and richness to our lives that cannot be enveloped by pitiful headlines that makes the international news.

The last year I believe I’ve changed a lot. I have more concrete ideas and beliefs on the things I feel passionate about, and have found more confidence in standing up for it and defending my position. I’ve also made important steps, participating in the little joys of being an adult and leaving my nest. I’ve lived about a year alone now in my own apartment, experiencing the infinite freedom of dancing around only in my underwear, to wishing death upon myself for leaving the food waste rubbish to last minute. I’ve learned what it means to fall in love, the ups and the downs, and what it means to share yourself in a way a little different to before, how it’s been with my family or any of my friends.

As I sat down at my desk, jotting down all the new years resolutions I made (e.g. STOP PROCRASTINATING. FIND 3 HOBBIES AND STICK BY IT. (FIND AN EXERCISE ROUTINE DEMMIT etc), I realized that all these things really amounted to one thing. Call it an idealistic existential crisis if you will, but this is the year I really want to discover myself. Get really in tune and more importantly comfortable with who I am and who I want to be. When I look back in 2016, I hope I can nod and be really satisfied and marvel at my spiritual and emotional growth. Already a lot is in store for me–I’m heading to Australia for a semester of exchange. How did I even pick this country from all the other options? Simple. I was inspired by a vlog I watched, I did some research and I was inspired. I put it as first choice. Surprisingly, I got in. So that’s what it is, I guess.

This is another thing that I’ve come more to terms with me. My carefree personality. It used to stress me out not knowing what I was going to do and always felt guilty about making big choices on a whim rather than the meticulous check lists and research that my friends delved into. But as I say, hey, it’s gotten me this well this far. It must be work pretty well for me!

I hope to write more often.

Cheers to that, and to the new year!

x

Standard
Uncategorized

Korea: Gwanganli Beach and Dadaepo Beach, Busan

IMG_0115 IMG_0114 IMG_0113IMG_0116

When I first came to Korea, I made an obligatory trip to the second biggest city in Korea, Busan, where I was born and raised till 3, and most of my family resides.

My cousin (who shares a whopping 16 year old age gap with me) treated me to lunch at a bustling double story cafe right in front of beautiful Gwanganli beach. The toast, omelette and sausages were reminiscent of home, and the atmosphere was relaxed for couples and families. On the beach, there always seems to be a lot of functions, such as beach volleyball or mini music concerts going on. I think it will be useful to check the events out to determine which ones you want to attend (and similarly, what to avoid!)

As night began to sweep into the sky, there was a sudden emergence of many provocatively cladded young women and men, who were probably looking to have an enjoyable evening in the notorious line of bars and clubs.

 Meanwhile, at Dadaepo Beach they were hosting there Dadaepo Sunset Fountain of Dreams festival, an hour long water show, dancing flamboyantly to some of Korea’s most known and beloved tunes.

IMG_0085 IMG_0081 IMG_0082

  • Free admission
  • First come first serve seating
  • Relaxing, magical and perfect for chasing the heat away!
  • Public transport most convenient as parking can get crowdedIMG_0083
Standard